


Brooker

by WichitaRed



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is how it feels, might be an apt phrase for Heyes to use at the end of ths tale</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brooker

**Author's Note:**

> ** Set during Outlaw Days

Small creatures chirped, scurrying through the underbrush as the long hoot of an owl sounded ominously through the jagged cedar break. While down below, the lights of Black Ridge peacefully blinked out one by one until the town blended into the thick darkness of the hills surrounding it.

Arching an eyebrow at his partner, Heyes gave him a smug nod knowing the Kid had not believed him one iota when he described this silver town, which rolled up its streets as serenely as if it were filled with grangers instead of miners.

Shaking his head, Kid shrugged picking up his reins; he urged his big bay out towards the sleepy town. Behind him, he could hear, his cousin’s sorrel picking her way daintily down the rock-strewn trail. Otherwise, all about them remained silent.

_________________

 

The bars creaked in complaint, ever so slightly; as the vice changed their original shape to one much more useful to the nighttime visitors and looking back with a grin; Heyes eased open the sash smoother then swallowing a mouthful of whiskey. Pulling his Schofield, he slipped inside neat as a cat sliding through a picket fence.

Checking their surroundings once more, Kid shook his head at how very quiet the town was before following his partner inside. Turning from the window, he tripped over his cousin nearly sending them both crashing to the floor. Kid’s baleful frown did not faze Heyes in the least. Truthfully, his dark eyes were sparking like the Fourth of July, as he whispered, “See it’s just like I said, one of the old three number combination Brookers.” Removing his gloves, he patted the Kid’s shoulder, “Watch my back, I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.

A grin spread across the Kid’s face, settling his self against the bank’s front counter, already imagining spending the money. Plenty to eat, pretty gals, whiskey, gambling, new holster really anything his over-flowing pockets could buy him.

While with humble admiration, Heyes stroked his palm down the safe’s painted front, whispering, “Ready dear?” then with a grin which caused his dimples to skip, he closed his sparkling black eyes, snuggling up to the door, his fingers deftly stroking the nickel plated dial. Rolling it expertly, one tantalizing notch at a time, he heard the first click. The pink tip of his tongue darted out tracing the rim of his lower lip, opening his eyes he reared back enough to read, twelve. Pushing tighter against the unrelenting surface, he inhaled, turning, turning, turning the dial until the second click made his skin prickle like a lover’s touch.

Seeing him move to read this number, the Kid hissed, “Heyes it feel a bit breezy in here to you?”

The dark eyes flicked toward Kid full of anger, “I believe, in most circles that is considered a direct result of a window being open.”

The Kid held up his hands in mock surrender, even as Heyes snorted at him returning his attention to the Brooker, placing his high-cheekbone against the smooth metal once more. He let the ridges of the dial slide teasingly beneath his sensitive fingertips, when too soon he heard the tale-tale click. Frowning sadly, he rocked back on his heels, 12-33-40. Grasping the handle, he shoved it down opening the safe. Almost in unison, a hiss of air escaped from the Brooker as Hayes exhaled, sounding spent but satisfied he stood sighing again, enjoying the exhilarating rush and stepping back, he swung the door wide.

The Kid leapt forward ready to load the empty carpetbag. Heyes meanwhile leaned lackadaisically against the safe, pulling on his black gloves, he kept an ear cocked, wanting to hear his partner’s hushed cheer at all the money. But hearing nothing, he peeked around the door to see Kid standing dumb founded and stepping alongside, he instantly felt the same for even though the interior of the safe was dark, it was not too dark to see it was stone-cold empty.

Shoulder to shoulder the cousins stood staring with their mouths a gap when a strong breeze blew through the room. Turning they saw, the curtains of the opposing wall flutter wide exposing another freshly pried set of bars. Looking back to the window they had entered through, the Kid smiled pounding his cousin on the back. “Ha Ha, Heyes, looks to be you’ve been beaten at your own game tonight.”

“Why Kid that plain ain’t fair.”

“Fair?” The Kid said looking about at the tidy bank and the safe door hanging wide open. “Odd choice of words Heyes odd choice.” He said wrapping an arm about his cousin’s shoulder turning him toward their window.

Heyes resisted looking at the empty safe, “But Kid???”

“I know. I know.” Kid said grinning steering him on across the room and laughing heartily aimed him toward the window shoving him through, “I know Heyes, it ain’t fair.”


End file.
